Alanna: the 157th adventure
by Shadowlight
Summary: In which Tortall is invaded by televangelists.


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Disclaimer: You know the drill. None of this is mine, the characters belong to Tamora Pierce, I'm just borrowing them to have fun with, and I promise to put them back where I found them before I get any more toys out.brbr  
  
Alanna the Lioness, Baroness of Pirate's Swoop and Knight of the Realm of Tortall - and bearer of several other titles that she didn't want to think about right now, like King's Champion - sighed as Darkmoon plodded down the dusty road. Only mid-morning, and it was already hellishly hot. Summer was definitely enjoying its last fling before the onset of cooler autumn weather. She scratched the back of her neck, wishing she could do something about the drop of sweat trickling down her spine under her leather armour, right where she couldn't get at it, and wondering - not for the first time - exactly who had first had the bright idea that knights should wear armour ALL THE TIME, even in the heat of summer.brbr  
  
iI swear, when I get to the Black God's realm, I'm taking flint, tinder and a toasting fork. I'll have all eternity to find that particular genius, and when I do, I want to enjoy myself./i  
  
After her liege-lord's forcible hint that she should leave the capital and 'find knight's work elsewhere', she had headed south, to the outskirts of the Great Southern Desert, and was now working her way up the western coast in the direction of home. She wanted a rest, and besides, she had got word that George was back from his latest bout of Spying For The Good of the Nation.brbr  
  
iYes. Definitely time for a holiday./i  
  
Just then, what could only be described as Ye Olde Countrie Bumpkynne ran onto the path in front of her, puffing and sweating. brbr  
  
"If 'ee please, mum, we heard tell ye was coming this way, and that ye be a mage?"brbr  
  
She nodded, a trifle abruptly. The inn a few miles ahead served chilled fruit juice, and she could hear the ice-box calling her already.brbr  
  
"Only, summat's turned up at our village. A demon, belike."brbr  
  
iA demon? More likely the boar got out of its pen again. But I suppose I should take a look. Knight's work, after all./ibrbr  
  
"All right, which way?" She pointed Darkmoon in the direction The Bumpkin indicated - away from the cold drinks, dammit! - and nudged him to plod a little faster. brbr  
  
  
***  
  
"I thought you said it was a demon?"brbr  
  
On a makeshift stage at the end of the village square stood - well, capered, like all his breed - what to all intents and purposes looked like a street-preacher. Rather better-groomed than most, admittedly, but nevertheless - brbr  
  
"Oh aye, it looks like a man. Even had some 'f us fooled for a bit. But has to be summat else - a demon - jest lissen to what it's saying."brbr  
  
"OH, I was a grievous sinner once, just like all of you people out there today - until I was healed through listenin' to the Lord's Word. Praise the Lord! And you too can experience the POWER of the Lord's Word, for he hath given me the joyful mission to bring it to all unbelievers. Praise the Lord! All you have to do the be Healed is buy my special-price, limited edition only CD of The Healing Power of the Lord - praise the Lord - for just twenty-nine, ninety-five! That's right, just twenty-nine ninety-five! And if you purchase it now, you will receive a special, leather-look copy of the one and only Good Book absolutely free!"brbr  
  
"Ye see, mum? Sounds like nothing on earth!"brbr  
  
"He isn't just a madman?" brbr  
  
"Oh, no, mum! See, he en't from around these parts s'far as we can tell, and no-one saw him come into town. And there's others, too. Jest appeared out of nowhere, the lot of them."  
brbr  
"And when I was in my darkest hour, He came to me and filled me with his light! And for just twenty-nine ninety-five you too can share these revelations!"brbr  
  
iUm. 'Filled with light' sounds a tad supernatural - I suppose stranger things have happened - /ibr  
Alanna put a hand to the ember-stone at her throat. There was something about the preacher - not magic, not exactly, but something - brbr  
  
She stepped toward the rickety stage.brbr  
  
"Who are you and where do you come from?"brbr  
  
"I am the Reverend Billy Graham (tm) and I am endowed by the Lord's grace to undertake the mission of bringing His word to these ungodly heathens! Praise the Lord!"brbr  
  
"Why are you here?"brbr  
  
"I am doing the Lord's Work! I must fulfil my holy task of bringing the glory of the gospel to these poor benighted creatures, for just twenty-nine ninety-five! Why do you question me, O heathen woman? Do you not know that it is an abomination unto the Lord to ape men in usurping their clothing?"brbr  
  
Alanna looked down at her worn canvas breeches. A bit grubby, certainly, she admitted to herself, but nothing exceptionable about them. Besides, how was she meant to go around swinging a sword in skirts - or exorcise demons, for that matter?brbr  
  
"You are not welcome in this village - why haven't you left the people alone?"brbr  
  
"The Lord's Work is still undone here! My brethren and I cannot leave these people to the mercy of the devil!"brbr  
  
iBrethren? Goddess - the bumpkin had said there was more than one of them, hadn't he?/ibrbr  
  
What was it about him? All the ranting was giving her a headache and making it impossible to concentrate. She made an irritable gesture and slapped a silencing spell on the preacher. It was strangely hard - it felt like her Gift was slipping off him - there! She tied the spell off and added a last dab of magic to make it stick. The preacher's lips kept moving, now in blessed silence.brbr  
  
iSomething about him just feels wrong, like he doesn't fit here - is he from another Realm? Another world? /ibrAlanna shrugged, annoyed. An all-purpose elastic recoil banishing spell should send him back where he came from, anyway.brbr  
  
She began tracing the sigils of the banishing spell, leaving them outlined in the air with purple fire. She murmured the words of the spell - concentrate, concentrate - brbr  
  
The silence spell slipped off. brbr  
  
"Witchcraft! Witchcraft is the work of the devil! But you cannot silence the holy message of God for long - "  
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"Agh!" iDoes /inothing ishut him up? /iA simple physical spell didn't require that much concentration -   
she scooped him up in a net of her magic and dumped him into the (conveniently close) village pond. While he was still spluttering, she gabbled the words to the banishing spell, aimed it - and let the spell go. brbr  
  
A glowing-edged hole appeared in the air. The preacher hurtled through it like a pebble from a catapult, dripping with pond-weed, coughing and screeching about WITCHCRAFT AND DEVILRY! THE LORD SHALL STRIKE YOU DOWN, UNHOLY BITCH!brbr  
  
***  
  
Alanna dusted her hands on her breeches, feeling unaccountably satisfied...until she heard, from the direction of a side street, another voice:brbr  
  
"The Lord is my Shepherd! Praise the Lord! Let Him into your hearts and He will be your Shepherd too!"brbr  
  
"All right," she said to her guide. "Where are the rest of them?"brbr  
  
"I'll take 'ee to 'em right away, mum."brbr  
  
Alanna sighed. It looked like being a long day. Maybe, if she finished banishing quickly enough, she could have a swim in that river they'd passed earlier...brbr  
  
THE END  
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